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My stylist recently left town and I was desparately in need of a trim. A new place had just opened downtown called Metro West Hair, so I decided to give it a shot. I'm a pretty guy, but I wouldn't call myself metrosexual. I'm a bit of a slut, I guess. I date around. I pick up alot of girls at clubs. I'm my own person. I don't like to be tied down by anything. As for my appearance, I'm average height, thin, but not scrawny. I've got enough definition where it counts. I've got long, dirty blonde hair almost to my shoulders. I've always taken really good care of it and it's got me alot of pussy. My last trim was about two months ago, but I'll pay top dollar for good quality maintenance.

The salon was classy, well decorated, like you would expect for a high price venue. What was probably most significant was a sutble feeling that I couldn't quantify until much later. There was a vague aroma of some sort. What it was I didn't know, but it was intoxicating. It was late in the day: 8:30 pm. I was the last customer. And there was only one stylist there. He was occupying his time with bookkeeping when I walked in.

"Hello," he said. "You must be Mark."

He had a French accent. It fit well with the atmosphere and his appearence. He had short, dark hair and a great tan. He was wearing a tight, shiny black t-shirt that showed off his build, which was more impressive than mine.

He led me back to his styling chair and I sat. As I started to tell him what I wanted he interrupted me, staring at me chest. I had a little bit of chest hair protruding through my open collar.

"Come with me!" he demanded.

I got up and followed him into a room in the back.

"Take off your shirt."

I did and he observed my pattern of chest hair.

"This will not do," he continued. "Take off your pants."

I hesitated, but he was very firm in his request. He made it again. So I gave in and took them off. He made a swirling sign in the air with his finger, which I could only take to mean that he wanted me to strip completely. I complied. Here I was naked, in the back room of a salon, with a stylist I had never met before. One could imagine my unease.

"I will take care of this for you," he said and took a tube of cream off his shelf. He made a motion for me to lift my arms and he spread the cream evenly over my entire torso starting with my back. His hands were strong and deliberate, and it felt a little like a massage. I looked down and noticed my penis growing. The last thing I wanted was to give the impression that this guy was turning me on, so I tried to think unsexy thoughts, with some initial success. He turned around and rubbed the cream over my chest and armpits. He gave no hint that he noticed my apparent arousal. Thankfully my friend had calmed down by this point.

He continued to apply the cream over my arms and then moved to my legs and feet. His massaging touch again started to make me stand up. I couldn't stop it this time. His progress slowed noticeably as he approached my buttocks. He firmly rubbed every inch more than once. He bade me to lean forward and he spread the cream between my buttcheeks. This he did relatively quickly, but by now I was fully erect. He moved to my groin and, more slowly, covered my pubes with the cream. My erection didn't seem to bother him, but I was not only fully erect, but also fully aroused. I had never dreamed of being this intimate with a man, and the thought disturbed me greatly.

After he finished he set a timer and after about three minutes, he instructed me to go and shower off. There was a very stylish bathroom with a full shower. I stepped in and turned on the water. I washed with a cloth and to my amazement large clumps of hair came off in the cloth. I started with my chest and ended with my pubes. Ever last trace of hair on my body was now gone. I moved my hands slowly over myself, becoming aroused again. As I was absent-mindedly doing this I noticed a third hand reaching around my waist. It was followed by another hand and two muscular arms carressing my smooth skin. I knew who it was but I didn't resist. It felt wonderful. I reached back and felt his hip and buttock. They were smooth too. I moved my hand and found his erect penis and gently stroked it. His arms tensed, and one of his hands found mine. The hot water still cascaded over us. I lost all control. I turned around and kissed him squarely on the mouth. He reciprocated with just enough tongue to drive me wild with desire. I caressed his firm chest and again found his smooth penis. I found myself dropping slowly to my knees and taking his generous cock in my mouth. Back and forth, I rocked, until I felt him tense up again. The back of my throat was pelted with several small jolts. He drew out and I licked him clean and swallowed whole. I stood up and he turned off the water.

He handed me a towel and said, "Time for you haircut."

He led me naked into the main shop where the shades had been drawn and the "open" sign was turned off. I sat in his chair, still fully erect. He picked up my long hair and started to brush it. He massaged my scalp as he did this, and, for who knows how long, the world stopped.

He turned to his styling counter and picked up another comb and something that I couldn't see. That is when I heard a click and a hum. I had a sudden urge to protest. I hadn't had clippers touch my perfect hair for years. The fight or flight response was quickly quelled by a hand on my shoulder. He brought the clippers closer to my forehead. There was no guard. I thought of the intense sexual experience I had just had and relaxed. The next thing I felt was the light vibration of the machine on my forehead. It was pushed back slowly and carefully. My erection was so firm that it almost bordered on painful, as I savored every sensation. The clipper reached my crown and I looked at the white path that was left in its wake. My anticipation for the completed look was growing by the second, but at the same time I wanted it to last forever. Again and again my perfect hair was mowed from my scalp, and I was loving every second of it. He circled around to the back of the chair and eased my head down to my chest. The clippers moved up my nape repeatedly until they were finally clicked off.

A warm wet towel was placed on my scalp and I felt even more relaxed. He spread a thick layer of aromatic shaving cream all over and smoothly, with even strokes, stipped it away with his straight blade. At last the cut was over. I was bald. I had never shaved my head before. I looked really good. He massaged a moisturizer into my skin and this, too, had a soothing smell.

"One more thing," he announced.

He took an alcohol swab and wiped my earlobe. He then took a small gun and I felt a prick. He had placed a small, hoop earring in my right ear. He repeated the procedure on the left side. I was bald, naked, and pierced. He led me back to the shower to rince off the hair clippings, and after several minutes of letting the water run and carressing my newly smooth surfaces, he again joined me. I took his hands and moved them over my scalp and my body. Then I took his penis in my hand and turned around. I leaned forward and presented myself to him. I heard a squirt of lubricant from a bottle, followed closely by this sensation of him gently probing my anus. I shifted and spread to allow him in. He penetrated me quickly and I felt him thrust in and out with his hands on my hips. My hands were on the wall to counter his movements. It was exquisite. He made it last as long as possible. We came simultaneously in an explosion of ecstasy.

This was my first gay experience, and certainly would not be my last. I kept everything smooth from that moment on. It served me well with both women and men. It also helped with self gratification.

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